


I Might Want to Marry You One Day

by phantisma



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-11
Updated: 2007-04-11
Packaged: 2017-11-14 16:35:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/517354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantisma/pseuds/phantisma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Winchester is home on leave, and his friends set him up to escort a childhood friend to their wedding.  Mary decides John's dress blues are hot...and in helping him...cool off, discovers that his tattoos are pretty damn hot too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Might Want to Marry You One Day

His is an easy laughter, she remembers that, though it’s been a few years since she’d seen him. She doesn’t want to be nervous, but she is, because he’s been gone, and he’s seen war, and he’s probably changed.

Mary stood, swiping a hand over the ridiculous taffeta of the gown to smooth out the wrinkles made while she sat and fixed her hair. It was a wedding. Her best friend. His best friend. It made perfect sense for them to stand beside their friends. It made perfect sense because Mary had known John since they were both in 7th grade, and John was home on leave, and Mary had broken up with Scott Davis six months before.

The dark blue of the gown made her eyes sparkle a deeper blue. She’d look good next to his dress blues.

She swallowed and shook off the trepidation. That was the nervousness. He’d be the only man there in uniform. The only one of their friends still in the service, though Terry had told her he was getting out soon. Terry, who had been trying to fix Mary up for five of the six months Mary had been solo.

No one had known he was coming home, not until he knocked on Mark’s door, hat in his hands and two days stubble on his chin. He hadn’t made it for his father’s funeral a month before because he was overseas, but he’d gotten there in time for Mark and Terry’s wedding, with a few days leave to deal with his father’s things.

The doorbell rang and she took a deep breath. She had no idea what Mark had told him, or what he might be expecting. Terry had called and said he’d be picking her up and escorting her for the day.

She put on a smile and opened the door and froze.

She’d never really realized how tall John Winchester was…or how…big…and…she realized she was staring and forced herself to blink. “John? My god, it’s been ages.”

He smiled and she might have collapsed to the floor, if not for holding on to the doorframe. “Mary, you look…fabulous.”

“Me?” Me? Look at you." Her eyes swept over the crisp, dark blue, the pristine white gloves, the hat tucked neatly under his arm, white belt complete with saber, even the shoes.

He chuckled and her eyes snapped up to his. “Look at you. I don’t even know what to say.” Mary smiled and shook her head. “You’d think I’d never seen a man in uniform before. Let me grab my purse.”

The perfect gentleman, he held the door for her, waited while she locked it and offered her his arm as they moved to the car. “Is that yours?”

He smirked and nodded. “Beauty, isn’t she? My old man kept it for me while I was away.”

She swept her skirt under her as she sat, and he closed the door gently. “You know, you didn’t have to let Terry push you into being my date.” Mary said as John got in and set his hat between them. “I mean, I’m glad.” She was blushing and shook her head. “I’m really glad you said yes.”

He started the car and looked at her. “A pretty girl like you should have a date, and I think I’m the one who should be grateful. I’ll have the prettiest girl there on my arm.”

“Well, it’s easy to see the Marines didn’t chase all the charm out of you.”

She relaxed a little. “I miss the hair.” She lifted a hand to brush over the back of his head. “I remember little curls back here. And bangs.”

He smirked and caught her hand. “Regulations. They shaved it the first day.” He kissed the tips of her fingers, then let her hand go. He seemed suddenly self conscious, and put both hands back on the wheel. “So…Terry and Mark? Who would have guessed?”

Somehow his nervousness made her relax even more. By the time they got to the church, all she was thinking about was getting her friend down the aisle. By the time they got to the reception, it was like he’d never been gone…and like they’d been closer than she remembered ever being.

All in all, John was an ideal date. Friendly, witty, focused and caring…and all of that was without the handsome face, the uniform, the voice…

“Dance with me, John.” Mary said, her face warm from the champagne, her hand rubbing over the soft skin of his gloves. His hands were hot in them as she pulled him up and guided them to the floor. “Wonderful Tonight” by Eric Clapton was playing as she tucked his hands around her waist and lay her head against his shoulder.

She had to wonder as they swayed together on the floor why it was she’d never thought about him like this before…why he’d always just been one of the guys…She looked up at him and smirked.

“What?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. I was just thinking how nice this is. I like a man with strength in his arms. I like to know I’m being held.” Her hands slid up his arms. “But aren’t you hot?” She blushed, then pulled him back toward the far end of the dance floor, into a dark corner. “Here let me help.”

She looked him over, then went for his hands, pulling the glove off his right hand. “You’re all hidden. I want to see your hands.” She said as he grinned down at her. Her hands caressed over his now naked hand, stroking over calluses. “Your hands are so warm.”

She pulled off the second glove and set them on the table. She went for the belt next, sliding fingers around it until her right hand came to the saber. She stepped closer, biting her lip as her hand closed over the sheath and moved down. Her eyes flicked up to his and he couldn’t hide the lust quick enough. Marine, she reminded herself. Gentleman, but still a man. More man than she remembered him being.

She was flushed with it herself, and to be standing there, stroking the man’s sword where anyone could see them…it was brazen, even for her. Her hands went to the belt buckle and she pulled the belt and sword off and set it on the table with the gloves.

John chuckled as her hands started unbuttoning his jacket. “You gonna undress me right here in front of God and all these witnesses?” he said gruffly, and damn if that growl didn’t sink directly into her gut. She squirmed and smiled.

“You gonna let me?” she asked. He responded by holding his arms out to the sides.

“Good thing my CO isn’t here,” he whispered in her ear as she finished working on the buttons and was pushing the jacket off him, pushing him back at the same time until he was sitting.

His jacket joined the gloves and belt, and Mary hitched up her skirt before straddling John’s lap. “Much cooler.” She said, running her fingers up his arms.

“I don’t know about that.” John murmured. His face was flushed and she nearly kissed him…but something distracted her. Her hands floated under the sleeves of his undershirt, and the skin was…different. Her eyes caught his and widened.

“John Winchester, do you have a tattoo?” she asked, leaning back to look at him. He raised his right hand to smooth down the sleeve self-consciously, but she was grinning and leaning in to see. “You do. Let me see.”

“Mary…” He pushed at the sleeve, but she pushed it back up. Her eyes danced to his and back down and without letting herself think about it, she leaned down and licked it. Right there. Where anyone could see her.

She thought she heard John groan. She’d never kissed the man, and she was licking his arm. He shifted under her, his right hand circling around to keep her from falling off his lap. She chased the design with her tongue, up toward his shoulder. “Do you have more?” she asked in his ear, her voice a breathy whisper.

He was getting aroused, she could feel him hardening between her thighs. He nodded, turning his head toward his right arm. Her lips brushed over his as she moved her attention…not a kiss…not really…then he was holding up the shirt sleeve and she could feel herself dampen.

There was something about black ink in tanned skin…a mark…permanent…indelible. It was obscene what it did to her…the thoughts it put in her head. She licked her lips and leaned over, open mouth pressed to the marked skin, tongue slipping over lines of ink. Her position rubbed her groin against John’s and there was no mistaking the erection. “Fuck,” he whispered as she made her way up his arm.

“I’m going to kiss you John Winchester,” she said in his ear and he nodded, his eyes closing as her mouth met his. He tasted like beer as his mouth opened for her, and he sucked at her tongue until she was squirming in his lap, her body tingling with arousal. “Why haven’t we ever done this before?” she asked breathlessly as she pulled back.

“Don’t know.” He chased after her lips and she let him chase for a second before giving in and letting him catch her.

“Wanna….” She licked her lips and tried to center herself. “Get some air? Air…we need air.”

She backed off him, standing and he followed, his hands sweeping up his jacket and gloves and belt. “I like air.” He grinned at her like…like a puppy. Like a great big, happy puppy…and she knew.

She knew she was going to drag him out to that black car and lick his skin and let him inside her. She knew she was going to fall….she was going to jump off the cliff and drown in the way he looked at her…and if he asked…She shook her head.

She wasn’t going to chase the future this time…she was going to grab the moment and hold on. For whatever it was worth.

They were outside the building, away from the swirling disco lights and the pulsing beat of some song she couldn’t name and he was pressing her against the wall, kissing her urgently. The man was good with his lips.

She wondered for a moment if it was possible to come from a kiss….a long, slow kiss that started as tender touches of lips on lips and tiny slips of tongue and moved to her lower lip between his teeth…to his tongue sliding over hers, to his hands in her hair, knocking pins and flowers out…to whimpers that she recognized moments later as her own.

“Car…car…” She pulled him closer though as his lips moved over her face, down to her neck. “Want…car…” Finally she pushed him away, pushed him toward the car. He opened the back seat and she pushed him in, pushed him down, climbing in on top of him. Her left hand worked on his belt while her right pulled the door closed behind her.

“Easy…” John’s hands were in her hair, on her face and she reached for one with her mouth, sucking his finger in even as she finally found her way into those damn Marine pants to his cock, which was hard and heavy in her hands.

“No…don’t want easy John….want this….” She let her hands stroke over him. “Help me” Her skirt was bunched up between them and his hands slid down to find his way in, his long fingers brushing wet panties and everything under them until she gasped and trembled and came….just like that. “Damn….fucking damn.”

He grinned though, grinned up at her, even as his finger finally moved under the wet cloth, sliding up and into her. She moaned and rocked on his hand. “You…got…something?” she asked and he nodded slowly.

“Back pocket.” He rocked up, thrusting his cock through the fingers of her hand and she let go to fish out the small packet with the condom.

“You always so prepared?”

“Eagle scout.” He moved a second finger inside her and she fumbled the condom…then finally got the wrapper open and the damn thing rolled down over him.

“Yeah…I remember…” She couldn’t breathe…and couldn’t decide what she wanted more, the way his hand was working her, or the feeling of his cock inside her…then he made the decision for her, pulling his fingers free and her panties aside and sliding down the seat. She rose up and he positioned himself there, rubbing the head through her slit, up against her clit and back before she started sinking over him.

It was close quarters, but she made it work, leaning forward, her hands holding on to the inked skin of his arms as she rocked on top of him. It was hot and she could feel the sweat dripping down her back, see it blooming in the fabric of his t-shirt. She pushed at the damp sleeves, leaning in to lick over the dark lines again…and his hand was under the expanse of her skirt, between them, splayed out over her hip, with his thumb resting where her every movement sent it skating over her clit.

His hips moved in perfect rhythm with hers and she dragged her lips to his mouth. “Kiss me, John.” The words breathed over his lips, drew his head up…and she didn’t know how this happened, because she wasn’t this girl…had never been this girl….but she loved how he tasted and the way he did _that_ right there, a roll and thrust and curl inside her and she was coming again, head thrown back, guttural noises pouring out of her…Until she felt him tense, his eyes stutter shut and then open again, his cock still inside her as he came.

They were both panting and she moved just enough for him to slip the rubber off. He tied it and dropped it to the floor, before pulling her in for a kiss. “Keep doing that and you may have to carry me home.” Mary said as she laid across him, settling her head to his chest.

“Maybe I will anyway.” John said…and she wasn’t really sure if he meant he would keep kissing her anyway, or carry her home anyway…and didn’t really care.

They were quiet, letting their hearts and breathing calm. And when she looked up at him, she saw a lot more than the boy she’d known before he went away to play soldier.

“So…you coming home for good?”

He inhaled deeply and nodded. “Soon. Got a month or so left. Figured I’d…you know, come home…find a nice girl, settle down…start a family.”

“Yeah?” She smiled and let her hand rest on his chest. “A nice girl?”

He kissed the top of her head. “A nice girl. Someone independent and pretty.” He drew her hand up to his mouth, kissing her fingers. “Maybe someone with a thing for tattoos…and uniforms.”

She chuckled and looked up at him. “Oh, you think because I let you fuck me I’m just going to marry you?”

“No…I was thinking of some other girl with a thing for tattoos and uniforms…I hear Darla Sampson—“

She pulled her hand out of his and slapped him across the shoulder, then braced herself up to look down at him. The look was long and searching. Her mother told her once that she should fall in love with someone she was already friends with. She and John had once been friends. Maybe not the best of friends, but she could see in his eyes…in his large hands and his contagious smile that they could be.

“You like what you see?” John asked.

“I might want to marry you one day, John Winchester. If you come home and behave yourself, take me out…buy me pretty things…”

He smirked. “Let you lick my tattoos?”

She dropped down and kissed him. “Take me home? I want to see the rest of your body before I decide.”

“Yes ma’am.”


End file.
